


the end of all things

by silena



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Parabatai AU, and like rachel is in this, happy late birthday tehreem, she's dating percy but like dont worry is percabeth, shoutout to mia for editing ur a+, sorry it's such a shitty present
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:32:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silena/pseuds/silena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which annabeth must deal with the disastrous consequences of her actions. | “because that’s what love is, isn’t it? making sure they’re happy, even if you aren’t.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	the end of all things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [olehmpus (tumblr)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=olehmpus+%28tumblr%29).



> happy late birthday, tehreem!! i hope you like your ~~shitty~~ present! go follow her on [@olehmpus](http://olehmpus.tumblr.com/)
> 
> shoutout to the wonderful mia [@faelins](http://archiveofourown.org/users/faelins/pseuds/faelins) | [@gryphoned](http://gryphoned.tumblr.com/)
> 
> read it on tumblr [here](http://wewritepjo.tumblr.com/post/143818795137/the-end-of-all-things)

The first time that Annabeth had found out that _parabatai_ weren’t supposed to fall in love, she’d been confused and asked why. They’d simply brushed her off and told her she was too young to understand. The second time, she was older (eight years old instead of five). They’d given her some bullshit excuse about it being illegal, but Annabeth knew something was off. The third time, she was twelve. And she’d gotten the unfortunate job of cleaning the entire Institute in response. She hadn’t asked again.

But later that year a boy named Percy Jackson walked into her life. He was single-handedly one of the most annoying and cocky people she’d ever met. And she had fallen head over heels.

He was all right, she supposed. He was cute enough and not quite as irritating once she’d gotten to know him. And when they were fourteen, they’d taken the _parabatai_ vows.

She’d been the one to ask, and—naturally—he’d said yes. Annabeth had figured that the _parabatai_ bond could rid her of the... _feelings_ that plagued her. It didn’t work.

Instead, she was forced to know that no matter how much she loved him or whether or not Percy loved her back, they could never be together. And it was her fault.

-Ω-

At the age of thirteen, Annabeth realizes that _holy fuck I’ve got a crush on Percy Jackson_.

And an entirely selfish part of her wants him to have a crush on her too. She’d feel way better about herself if she weren’t the only one. After all, misery loves company and she’s enduring the worst type of pain.

-Ω-

When they’re fifteen, Annabeth gets a startling revelation: _Percy Jackson is hot._ Time was a blessing for him, and he’s no longer the awkward, lanky boy that she once knew. He’s tall and tan and has a cocky, lopsided smirk that drives her absolutely insane.

Percy tells her that he’d do anything for her, that he’d hang the moon in the sky himself if it meant that she would smile. He doesn’t realize that it’s by her own actions that she’ll never feel the warmth of his arms the way she wants to, even if he wanted it as well.

She will suffer in accordance with her actions, but she will do it with grace. Even if it kills her. It probably will.

-Ω-

They’re sixteen now and it’s not their first Downworlder anymore. (It’s probably in the thousands, if she’s being honest with herself.)

They’re lethal and equally feared by the Downworlders, and for good reason. Annabeth’s blows are exact: deadly and precise. Percy, on the other hand, is brute strength and finesse wrapped up in a murderous package.

Percy uses a long broadsword that’s the length of his arm that he calls Anaklusmos, while Annabeth prefers her knives. Sure, she’s fine with swords but she prefers the feeling of daggers in the palm of her hand. Percy says the sword feels like an extension of him, whatever that means.

But in this moment, they’re okay. They’re fighting and it’s natural, because they can do anything as long as they’re together.

-Ω-

At the age of seventeen, Percy gets a girlfriend. And Annabeth hates her.

It isn’t Percy’s first date, so Annabeth doesn’t know why she hates Rachel Elizabeth Dare so much. Was it the fact that Rachel _glowed_ in the morning instead of grumpily downing several cups of coffee before being able to hold an intelligent conversation? Or was it Rachel's hair, a vibrant red that Annabeth had always wished for instead of her own yellow curls that always ticketed her as a dumb blonde? Or maybe it was that Rachel was dating _Percy_ , the love of her life and the only person in life Annabeth could never have.

At the age of seventeen, Annabeth gets wasted. And, when Percy finds out about it the next morning, he gets mad.

-Ω-

Later that year, Percy asks her that one question that she’d hoped would never have to answer.

“What’s up, Annabeth? You’ve been acting weird lately.”

 _Well sorry!_ she thinks. _It’s just that I’ve got a_ massive _crush on you and now you have a girlfriend and wow look at the time—I’ve got to go._

But she bites her lip and instead replies with a, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he continues, entirely oblivious as to how uncomfortable she is with this conversation. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Just busy with helping Chiron run the Institute,” she says, the lie rolling off of her tongue easily.

He shakes his head, black hair falling in front of his beautiful emerald eyes. “No, it’s something else. You only help him on the weekends, Annabeth. I’ve barely spent time with you ever since….Well, ever since I started dating Rachel.”

 _Silly boy. Don’t you realize that I’ve stayed away so I won’t be hurt? So that I won’t feel this terrible urge to curse her to the depths of hell? So that you can be_ happy _?_

But rather than spill her heart’s contents to him, she settles for a, “Huh. Hadn’t noticed,” and turns to walk away.

“ _Annabeth_.”

There’s something in his voice that makes her stop, dead in her tracks, and turn back around to face him. Percy Jackson—one half of the deadliest Shadowhunter duo, the boy who can single-handedly face several dozen Downworlders and escape without a scratch, the boy dating the Inquisitor’s daughter. Percy Jackson—the love of her life.

“Yes?”

But he didn’t reply. Instead, he closed the distance between them and his lips crash onto hers, fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces. And all Annabeth could think of was the fact that they would be in _so_ much trouble if anyone ever found out.

-Ω-

Annabeth stays _far_ away from Percy Jackson after that, however much it pains her.

 _He’s dating someone. He’s dating_ Rachel _. Rachel is nice; she doesn’t deserve to have someone she loves ripped away from her because of some selfish, foolish girl_ , she says to herself in some twisted attempt to erase any remnant of Percy Jackson’s lips from her mind. _It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing. If he had a chance to do it again, he wouldn’t._

Self-depreciation becomes her mantra and _dammit! she will let him be happy_. Because that’s what love is, isn’t it? Making sure _they’re_ happy, even if you aren’t.

-Ω-

Even Clarisse notices that Annabeth is not performing her best when the former easily takes Annabeth down in a spar.

“You’re not doing so hot, Chase,” Clarisse says brusquely, though the concern in her eyes tells a different story.

Annabeth dusts herself off and takes Clarisse’s hand to help her up. “Just...distracted.”

Clarisse rolls her eyes. “Well, no shit. What’s on your mind?”

She sighs. Annabeth figures that, out of all people, Clarisse would be the one to understand what she’s going through. After all, when Clarisse’s _parabatai_ , Silena, died in an attack a few years ago, Clarisse hadn’t been the most stable afterwards.

But this was different. This wasn’t having your other half die in front of you, bloody and bruised. It was taking the blows for yourself, just to make sure that they would smile, even if they would never appreciate that fact. It was eternal agony and it was falling completely and irrevocably in love with the wrong person.

-Ω-

Percy eventually tracks her down. She isn’t surprised. After all, it was only a matter of time before he found her.

“You can’t deny it anymore when I say you’ve been avoiding me,” he says, and Annabeth is terrified because, for the first time, she can’t read him.

“I wasn’t going to.”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page.”

But they’re not, not anymore. They were supposed to be _parabatai_ , intrinsically linked by forces that could only be tethered by the strongest of runes. And now? They can’t even look each other in the eye.

They stand in silence, the starry night sky of Central Park illuminating Percy’s high cheekbones and sharp jawline. His hair shines in the moonlight and the streetlamps hit his verdigris orbs in just the right angle to make a kaleidoscope of colors.

They can’t speak, entranced by the other’s presence and the fact that the person standing right in front of them—their soulmate—is someone that they can never have.

“Annabeth—”

“Percy—”

“Sorry, you go first.”

“No, it’s alright. You go.”

Annabeth’s heart clenches. How did they end up like this? From the best of friends who shared everything to strangers who have difficulty maintaining small talk.

But maybe it’s better this way. This way—Percy keeps his girlfriend and his smile.

-Ω-

“Just _talk_ to him,” Piper says, a caramel macchiato in her hand. “If you never speak, you’ll spend your entire life wondering _what if_. You don’t want to be thinking back at this, on your deathbed, regretting every single second because of _miscommunication_.”

As much as she hates to admit it, Annabeth knows her friend is right. She stares down at her own drink, a simple hot chocolate with whipped cream and chocolate chips. “It’s not that simple, Piper—”

“Sure it is,” she says after taking a sip. “You’re Annabeth Chase and he’s Percy Jackson. You guys could overthrow the fucking government, as long as you guys were together.”

-Ω-

To be perfectly fair, Annabeth was _thinking_ about it….Over a bottle of wine.

But fate decided to intervene in the form of alcohol.

A loud knock pulls her out of depressing reverie, not that her state of mind was healthy for her psyche anyway. In her stupor, she opens the door while rubbing her eyes.

She doesn’t know _what_ she was expecting, but she _does_ know that a drunk-out-of-his-mind Percy Jackson wasn’t one of them. He looks a little bedraggled and his hair is sticking up in several places.

“Percy….?” she asks, half-incredulous half-asleep.

He immediately hugs her, his face in the crook between her neck and shoulder. “Annabeth, oh gods—I—I don’t even know— _holy shit, I’ve missed you_.”

She has to pry him off of her and, even then, he’s still clinging to her waist. “Percy, get off of me. It’s—” She turns around, checking the alarm clock on her nightstand, “four-thirty in the morning. Come on; I’ll take you to your room.”

“ _Nooooo!_ ” he whines, voice rising steadily.

Annabeth has to put a hand to his mouth. “Percy, _shut up_. You’ll wake everyone.”

He sighs. “I’ve missed you.”

“Percy—”

But he was already asleep.

-Ω-

She wakes to the sound of scuffling around her room. The source is obviously trying (and failing) at keeping the noise level down, but Annabeth has always been a light sleeper.

She cracks an eye open and is met with the sight of Percy’s bare chest. And, in a perfectly reasonable reaction when one is met with nakedness first thing, _she screams_.

Annabeth hears Percy mumble an “oh, for fuck’s sake,” under his breath.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she says sharply, hoping that there isn’t an _I-think-you’re-really-attractive-but-we-kind-of-hate-each-other-at-the-moment_ tone to her voice.

“I don’t fucking know!” he replies, though there isn’t ice in his voice like there is in her own. “You think I just _poofed!_ my ass into your bed. _Please_ , give me enough credit. I’d at least take you on a date—”

At that, he trails off, dropping his head into his hands. “Shit... _Rachel_.”

And, in that exact moment, whatever hopeful part of Annabeth is ripped out of her, put through a garbage compactor, shredded, and then burnt. _He’s still thinking of_ Rachel _._ And he has every right to. After all, he’s dating _Rachel_. Not Annabeth _._

Calmly and devoid of all emotion, Annabeth says, “Get out of my room.”

He looks up at her, eyes hopeful despite their hopeless situation. “Annabeth, we need to—”

“ _said get out!_ ”

This time, Percy Jackson, the very same boy who is notorious for going _against_ orders, listens.

-Ω-

Annabeth tells Thalia _everything_ , even though the latter is part of a group of select Shadowhunters that travel everywhere, who have no master except for the mysterious Lady Artemis.

So when Thalia arrives in New York for a few weeks with the Hunters of Artemis, Annabeth makes sure to ask her friend for advice, just as they’ve been doing to each other for years.

Annabeth sighs, picking at her order: a bacon cheeseburger and fries. “It’s just—I just wish that Rachel _was_ a bitch, y’know? Because that way she’d be easier to hate and I wouldn’t be left feeling like an idiot simply because my reason for dislike is _who she’s dating_.”

Thalia nods. “I remember feeling that way when…”

Annabeth knows her friend well enough so that Thalia doesn’t need to elaborate. Thalia and Luke had been the same way, with a third party between them. But the difference was that Luke had betrayed Thalia _after_ that as well, choosing power over love.

Annabeth gives Thalia a small, bittersweet smile, remembering everything that the three of them had experienced together.

“Maybe it’ll be different for you two,” Thalia says.

-Ω-

The knock sounds at her door five weeks later at precisely 11:47 in the morning, right after Annabeth had finished getting dressed for lunch with Piper and Hazel.

She opens her bedroom door, expecting it to be said girls. “I thought we were meeting at—”

She freezes. It’s not Piper and Hazel. _Au contraire,_  it’s Percy Jackson with his tousled black hair and green eyes that seem too see through the façade she’s been forced to perfect with Rachel’s intrusion into their relationship.

“Oh,” Percy says. “You’re going somewhere.”

“Just out with the girls,” Annabeth replies nonchalantly, as if they didn’t go out for lunch on days like this when they could still look each other in the eye.

“I—I just wanted to talk.”

“Oh? About what?”

Percy flushes, obviously thinking that he’d never make it to this stage of conversation with her. “I—Well, can I come in?”

Annabeth steps aside to let him in, but she can’t help but reminisce to the times when they’d barge into each other’s rooms without care for decorum. When they were _friends_.

“What did you want to speak to me about?” she asks, not unkindly.

He is silent for a while (a bit _too_ long, if you ask Annabeth’s opinion, long enough that she worries that he’d just come to make her feel worse, if inadvertently).

“I broke up with Rachel,” he blurts, quite randomly, if she may add.

“What?”

“I just—I realized that I wasn’t in love with her the way she was in love with me, and it wouldn’t be fair to either of us if I kept on with it,” he says, eyes everywhere but on her. “I realized that...I was in love with someone else.”

“Oh?” she says, faking interest. She doesn’t want to know if someone else will be holding her former best friend at night. She isn’t a masochist.

“Yeah,” he continues. “She’s smart and she’s funny and she’s kind. She’ll protect everyone she loves, but once you betray her trust, you’re a goner. She’s not too stubborn to know when things will hurt her, and she’ll back away if she thinks it’ll make those she loves happy….”

Percy sounds as if he could go on and on about Miss Flawless, but Annabeth doesn’t want her heart broken any more than it already has been.

“She sounds perfect,” Annabeth says, and she means it.

He nods in agreement. “Yeah, you are.”

Annabeth nods back, but then she realizes his slip. “Wait, you don’t mean—”

But by then, his mouth is on hers and she is smiling into his kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> maryjuianas.


End file.
